


My Dean Calls Me 'Brother'

by GertieCraign



Series: My Dean Calls Me 'Brother' [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst and Feels, Awesome Bobby Singer, Best Friends, Bobby Lives, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Denial, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Headcanon, Humor, M/M, No One Else Dies In This Fic, Our Cas Is In One of Them, Our Cas is with the Winchesters in This Universe, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, References to Major Character Death - Canon, Regret, Sad, Season/Series 12, Tags for Parallel Universe Fics are Really Hard, The Rift Opened Alternate Parallel Universes, This Series has a Happy Ending, This Universe's Cas Died on the Beach in Washington, if I did it right, what might have been
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 19:04:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11087991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GertieCraign/pseuds/GertieCraign
Summary: The rift opened. Cas stepped through. The rift pulsed...The apocalyptic universe our Cas was in when the rift finally closed was a nightmare. After a little more than a week, he managed to find a way to reopen the rift, but when he stepped through, the universe he found was just slightly 'off'. For one thing, Dean immediately kissed him. That was...unexpected.





	My Dean Calls Me 'Brother'

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn't necessarily coincide with my crazy parallel universe theories. But it's definitely an offshoot of them.  
> I'm going to write this as a series of installments, instead of chapters, because I don't want to commit to a specific structure, yet. I just thought of this about 8 hours ago, so... I'm gonna add to it as it comes. I know the ending already. It'll redeem the sadness. I promise. But you may have to wait a while for it. You know yourself. Don't read this if waiting for happiness is gonna upset you. Just wait 'til I post one that says it's the last installment. I'll try to be good about making that clear.
> 
> Also, this is entirely un-beta'd. I just threw this together today. I really hope it isn't littered with crazy-not-good writing. It most likely is. I just needed to get this out of my head. Please still love me after this.

 

A cool breeze swept over them as they lay beneath the lone shade tree in the private back yard. It was the height of summer in South Dakota, but today had been slightly cooler than usual. They’d taken advantage of it all morning, shirking even the most basic chores in favor of spending time just being together.

Cas was not accustomed to receiving this level of attention and affection from anyone. Ever. He certainly never expected to receive it from Dean. So after forcing himself to get past the initial shock and unease at being touched so casually and intimately, he found that he had zero complaints. It was wonderful.

The only thing that would have made this entire universe absolutely perfect would have been to not have the nagging reminders that this was not meant for him. This affection, this adoration, this love and physical touch...it was meant for someone else. Someone who had a life with this Dean. Someone who’d been killed just a couple of months ago on a sandy beach by a beautiful lake in Washington. Someone this Dean loved with all his heart, whose death had broken him in ways he was not prepared to accept.

And so Dean _hadn’t_ accepted it. Which is why he was lying there, stroking and caressing the version of Cas that had appeared a week after he’d watched the angel he was in love with die. Because to accept that he’d never hold Cas again, never see him, never hear his voice, never look up and find those blue eyes staring at him adoringly...he was fairly certain he’d never have a single happy moment again in his life. And no, he didn’t think that was an exaggeration. So, right now...fuck reality. He’d take what he could get. Real or not.

Dean took a long, deep breath and let it out. Cas felt his own head rise and fall as it lay comfortably on the man’s stomach. Dean reached down and began running his fingers through the angel’s thick, dark hair.

Cas sighed, relishing the touch. It felt more wonderful and comforting than he’d ever imagined it would. And he’d imagined it a lot. He was certain he could average it out to about twice a day since he’d first encountered this gloriously radiant soul languishing in the depths of Hell, paying a debt he did not owe, for sins that were not his own. He let himself relax further into the touch. His entire vessel felt as though it were melting into the soft grass beneath him.

“You two lovebirds plannin’ on playin’ kissy-face all damned day or 'r you gonna get some actual work done?” Bobby’s voice boomed from the back porch of the house.

“It can wait another hour, whatever it is,” Dean grumbled back at him. Then he thought better of it. “It can right? Hang on…” he lifted himself up onto his elbows and turned to look at Bobby. “What? We get a call?”

“We got _three_ calls. And I’m glad to see I finally got your attention, princess!” Bobby snarked. “We got two separate calls from two sets of hunters tryin’ to work a wendigo case that went South ‘cause it turns out there were actually _two_ wedigos that'd joined up and were doin’ their killin’ together.”

“What the hell? They don’t hunt in packs,” Dean said, completely incredulous.

“S’what they say. And they could use some advice. Need some research done to see if it's happened before and how to maybe split ‘em up so they can hunt ‘em individually. Otherwise, they’re gonna need a hand, and that’s gonna be you. So if you could kindly see fit to get off your ass, precious...”

“Ah…” Dean whined. He dropped himself back down and let one arm drape over his eyes. “Yeah, alright,” he answered. He shook his head and groaned. “Fuck.”

“And we got another call from somebody wantin’ to know if a certain Old Enochian devil’s trap is worth it’s salt, so to speak. They’re goin’ up against a fairly nasty demon and they need to trap its ass and get some info before they gank it. They figure they’ve got one shot, so they need to be sure. That one’s all you, angel-cakes.”  

“Ya know, ya keep flirtin’ with him like that, I’m gonna get jealous, old man,” Dean snarked.

“Shut up and get in here, idjits! I made lemonade so your delicate systems won’t collapse from all the hard work.”

“Oh, great…” Dean grumbled. “Come on, Cas. We gotta go in there and act like his lemonade isn’t awful, again.”

“I heard that,” Bobby’s voice boomed out through the open kitchen window. “You’ll drink it and you’ll like it, ya ungrateful brat!”

Dean finally cracked and chuckled.

Cas couldn’t help but laugh, too. He’d forgotten just how sharp and nasty the exchanges between Bobby and the boys sometimes sounded from the outside. It had taken him awhile to adjust and see the tremendous amount of love that had always lain right alongside the harsh words. He understood the humor, now, and found the cranky exchanges delightful. He still didn’t think he’d ever be able to properly join in. It would take an enormous amount of practice for him to get it right, and it wasn’t worth getting it wrong and potentially hurting their feelings. He’d decided to just let this be something he’d observe, and maybe someday he’d...

He shook himself. Not ‘someday.' He wouldn’t be here for ‘someday.’ He didn’t belong here. He was just biding his time until the rift opened again. He knew it wouldn’t be long now. He could feel the energy building...coalescing near its former position in North Cove, Washington. He had two weeks left, at the most.

This wasn’t his universe. The Bobby he knew was long dead. The Dean, Sam and Mary he knew were waiting for him, somewhere on the other side of that rift. He hoped. He shook himself again. He couldn’t allow himself to think that something had happened to them in his absence. He had to believe they were alright - that they’d survived and were dealing with the nephilim. Somehow.

He also hoped that they’d made the correct decision regarding the child. Cas now realized the nephilim may have sent him to this universe intentionally. Perhaps as a ‘thank you’ gift. If that were true, perhaps the child _was_ good, as Kelly had thought, but dangerously naive. This was not a good gift. This was a fantasy, and as real as this universe likely was, the Winchesters that Cas knew as his family were now either searching for him or mourning him or worse - they had an unknown version of Castiel raising the nephilim, as both he and Kelly had seen him do. Was it even an alternate Castiel? Or was it just some other creature imitating him. He had no way of knowing and that was the worst part of all of this. His family - his real family - might be in danger and they might not even know it yet.

 _‘Family’_ , Cas thought as he once again focused on Dean’s gentle caresses. _‘Brother.’_ That’s what he was to Dean in his universe. His Dean had made that very clear. His Dean would have greeted his return from the rift with a solid hug and a pat or two on the back. A genuine smile and a pop on the shoulder. His Dean would never have moved from the tight hug to an impassioned kiss, gripping fingers in Cas's hair and cupping his face tenderly. Cas would not have seen the relieved tears and desperate, hopeful eyes, that this Dean had shown him. His Dean...was not in love with him.

When the rift had finally reopened and Cas had stepped out of the apocalyptic universe where he’d spent nearly a week, the first thing he’d seen was the long, rectangular char mark of a funeral pyre on the sandy beach. He’d initially panicked, terrified that the pyre had been for one of his family. But then he’d looked back toward the rift and noticed a strangely familiar, though very faint outline in the sand near it’s base. His entire being had clenched when he'd recognized his own wings. That was _his_ pyre. Castiel was dead, here. This was not his universe. So...where was he?

He hadn’t had long to ponder that question before the back door of the cabin had burst open and Dean had rushed him at a full run. He’d clung to Cas. Held him tightly. And then kissed him with such ferocity, Cas was too stunned to resist.

When he'd realized Cas wasn't responding in kind, Dean had pulled back for a moment, recognizing that something was very wrong. But Dean made the decision to set that instinct aside. They both knew it was foolish. Neither of them had the strength of will to override it, though.

By the end, Cas had given in and kissed him back. Not a day had gone by since, that he hadn’t kicked himself for letting what he knew was an alternate version of Dean give him what he’d always wanted and could never have. It was selfish. It was wrong. He was using this man’s grief to his advantage and he hated himself for it. But, he could feel Dean's love radiating out of him when he allowed the man to touch him, kiss him, hold him and whisper beautiful things in his ear. Dean’s affection was overwhelming - an exquisite, irresistible drug that was powerful enough, at times, to enable Cas to almost completely forget:

This was not his Dean. 

This was not his home.

This was simply the home he’d wished for.

This was paradise.

 


End file.
